Before my Dissociative Identity Disorder diagnosis, I thought everyone around me was chronically confused. When they’d make reference to something I’d supposedly said or done, I genuinely believed other people were wrong 9 times out of 10. Which is semi-reasonable, I think. I don’t know anyone who’d respond to an accusation of something they not only don’t remember, but also cannot imagine themselves ever doing with, “Oh gee, I guess I’m dealing with dissociative amnesia.” Instead, they’d probably say what I said:
To be perfectly honest, I still tend to err on the side of thinking other people are mistaken (let’s say 7.5 times out of 10). If a friend mentioned “your trip to Paris last week,” in all likelihood I’d say the same thing, regardless of my diagnosis:
Unless I pieced together external evidence that proved, without question, that I had in fact been to Paris. If a routine check of my credit card statement reflected charges for a flight to Paris … and I called the credit card company (convinced that some ne’er-do-well had stolen my card information and enjoyed a trip to Paris on my dime) demanding a reversal of the charges … searching with increasing desperation for proof that I hadn’t been in Paris only to find further evidence that I had … I might respond to such a mention differently:
That’s what’s called confabulation, a less-than-honest way of compensating for dissociative amnesia. Or, in layman’s terms, trying not to look like an ass. And despite the fact that I’m out about having Dissociative Identity Disorder, I still cover for my amnesia this way. I do it partly because it’s so instinctive, so habitual, that not doing it requires awareness, followed by effort and a willingness to interrupt myself and clarify:
Actual tweet from Zoe's #MadParisJolly2011 timeline.
And that last is another reason I still engage in confabulation. Amnesia is embarrassing. So when I saw this post from Zoe Smith, detailing her A) recent excursion to Paris, B) inability to recall said excursion, and C) subsequent attempts to figure out what happened, I thought her rather brave. Zoe allows the public to read along as she pieces together those few days of her life, using her Twitter timeline to do so. She explains that ” … in a way I am glad for my Twitter addiction as I honestly would have no idea what happened between the evening of the 8th of June and the evening of the 12th of June without it.”
I’m glad for it too. Because with that post, Zoe has provided the public an inside look at something that is generally private and often unnoticeable to outside observers – piecing together the dissociative experience. Which, I think, is pretty awesome.
(And more difficult than simply refusing to believe you went to Paris at all, more painfully revealing than confabulation.)
Losing time – my least favorite part about DID. I usually play along with whatever they are saying because I can’t remember anyway.
This post reminds me of a time I was in a store and a woman I had never seen before approached me and called me by name and started chatting me up like we were pals. I pretended I knew her because I didn’t know what else to do. Of course, I ‘knew’ I had to be generic with the things I said to her (didn’t even know her name), but I needed her to believe I knew her so I could believe it, too. I NEEDED to believe it. My life depended on believing it and I guess I just needed to stay alive. My performance was stellar (I would have made a great politician), but the memory of pretending to know her when I didn’t would not leave me. It hunted me down like an animal.
It is very awesome indeed, that Zoe shared her experience.
Over the years, I have had people come up to me, and start talking to me as if they know me. I had no clue who they were. Depending on the individual circumstance, I would either tell them that they have mistaken me with someone else, or other times I would just blindly play along until the encounter was over.
Last year while cleaning out a desk drawer at home, I came across an old cell phone of mine that I carried about 4 or 5 years ago. I decided to donate it, but I wanted to first erase the names and numbers that I had stored. As I was going through them one by one, I started seeing names and numbers of people who I didn’t know. Some were from the people I mentioned above who were talking to me as if they knew me. Apparently they did…?
Then last year while attending an office party, a former co-worker who had dropped by to reconnect with old friends, pulled me aside, and told me not to worry, my secret was still safe. I do not recall ever being that close to this person to have revealed any secrets, so I demanded to know what on earth prompted such a statement. After I listened to the response, it became obvious that this former co-worker had some very private information about me that nobody could have shared other than myself. Naturally, I was extremely troubled, and confused by this, and I immediately left the party.
You’re so right. It is embarrassing, and for me… disturbing. It still baffles me how these things can happen. I still have a hard time wrapping my head around it.
More recently, I had someone come to me and start talking about the strong connection that we had together 2 years ago. In this case, I couldn’t find a single shred of evidence that this was even remotely true. I explained to this person that… “maybe it’s true, or maybe it’s not, but the fact is… I don’t remember. I honestly don’t remember, and I’m just not feeling it, so please understand if I don’t share what you claim to feel.”
So for me, I find that it is difficult to try to untangle fact from fiction. I really dislike believing that I’m wrong all of the time. Sometimes, I truly feel that I’m ‘being played’, you know? Do you ever get the feeling that some people might be trying to manipulate you? It’s just so frustrating.
I find that I need to see the undeniable evidence before I accept everything someone says to me. In Zoe’s case, her Twitter addiction served her well.
Thanks for posting this. Very well written! And kudos to Zoe for sharing her story!
I am amazed at all the unexpected ways technology can serve humanity. Your post always make me think. Thanks! Rae
Not that they are substantively related, except that they both occur in the brain, but I have seen that people with early dementia exhibit the same symptom (that they think it’s others are confused). It’s not simply denial because I think the brain is trying to compensate. I think the difference is that, as you implied, that at some point you become aware that you are confabulating answers. This moment, is probably the most important moment in anyone’s recovery… I think.